There was Once a King
by ria95
Summary: He long ago accepted that he isn't going to heaven- Loki/OC. Dark!Loki, Modern!AU
1. Chapter 1

**_Warning: Will contain themes of incest, angst and emotional despair. If you aren't comfortable with any of these please don't read._**

* * *

 _"i will wade out till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers"- I Will Wade Out, E.E. Cummings_

* * *

He long ago accepted that he isn't going to heaven.

He is no religious man. He doesn't go to church and faith is not something he possesses. But he knows that whatever the afterlife is or whatever awaits him after he has passed on from earthly life, it will not be good or kind.

Because from the little he knows of heaven it is a place for heroic, just and kind people. A place for people such as his brother whose moral compass points due north constantly and who sacrifices himself day-in-day-out for a cause he believes in, while serving their country deligently.

Heaven is a place for people such as his mother who has been kind, compassionate and just in her entire life and who has never uttered a cross and unfair word or committed any wrong-doing. Heaven surely reserves a place for his mother who has dedicated her life to rear her children with as much love as she could muster.

He is not meant for heaven. If there was a thing he is certain about it was that.

He is scheming and mischievious, especially when he was a child. He still recalls the numerous times when he tricked Thor out of the new toys that their father gave him for his birthday. He is self-serving and selfish and not at all altruistic as a good person might have been.

Heaven is a place for heroes and saints.

He possesses no redeeming qualities.

Yet perhaps all those characteristics which make him so unpleasant to his brother's friends- Sif can not stand to remain in the same room as him for more than five minutes before she would spit an insult at him and storm out of the room huffingly to escape his company- might have become void with time.

If he had just been self-serving and resentful- so resentful of his father's affection to Thor to the point that he has often just considered pointing one of Thor's guns to his chest and pulling the trigger with rigour- perhaps with time he would have been absolved of those short-comings and gone to heaven.

But he knows that will never happen.

If there is such a thing, he will never see heaven.

The reason for this is currently standing before him, looking up at him. All soft smiles and rosy cheeks that make him think of _raspberries on cream._

The reason he is damned for all eternity is currently passing her fingers through the strands of his hair, while standing on her tip-toes as he towers over her tiny form. And she whispers warmly: "You should cut your hair. It has become way too long, Loki."

They break apart when her name is called from the kitchen.

She looks at him once more, over her shoulders, before she exits the living room, giving him a smile which makes her eyes crinkle at the corners.

And his black heart dies in longing for his sister.

* * *

He doesn't know the exact moment his sickness began.

Perhaps it has always been there: Since the very first moment that he held the warm bundle of cloth in his arms. In his fifteen years of life it had been the first time ever that he gained any advantage over Thor. Both him and his fair-haired brother were standing at the side of their mother's hospital bed where she was resting after a fifteen-hour-long labour.

His mother first handed his new-born sister to him. And Loki held her before Thor and everytime he thinks back on that moment, he becomes more and more impressed with the monumentalness of it all. And each time, he recalls his fifteen-year-old-self holding her tighter, greedier.

His therapist- who exhibited no visible reaction other than the tightening of his weathered hand on his pen when Loki had savagely confessed that he dreamt of fucking his sixteen year old sister into his mattress- concluded that perhaps his obsession for his little sister springs from that. That perhaps Loki has made her into a symbol of triumph over his brother and due to the fact that he has spent 32 years feeling inferior to Thor in every way, he has these sick urges towards her.

He grasps onto this explanation from his psychologist and he spends his nights reciting the words the middle-aged man had used to appease him as he paced ferociously up and down his office like a caged panther.

He recites these words whenever he pictures her rosy lips or her creamy skin and he starts to positively burn with desire.

* * *

The incestous thoughts first started two years ago.

* * *

Before that he was... _absent_ from his family to put it mildly.

His falling-out with his father had occured during his semester vacation in his second year of university.

Differently from Thor who had enlisted in the RAF as soon as he had turned eighteen, Loki had chosen to read Classics at Cambridge. And almost as soon as Loki received his acceptance letter from the institution, he had moved out of his parent's home in West Berkshire and moved permanently to his dorm at Cambridge.

It was only at his mother's insistence that he visited during the semester breaks.

His brother made sure to stay every second of his leave in their childhood home. But then again Thor and Loki had always been diametrically opposed.

He had come to his childhood home during winter break to spend Christmas and New Year with his family. His mother had greeted him warmly as was her way and his little sister had not let go of his right leg since he had arrived before lunchtime. But the air around Loki was thick with his father's resentment.

Loki supposed that it was only a matter of time until there would be an argument betwen him and Odin. Tensions had been escalating all afternoon during his arrival. And that build-up had led to an explosive discussion between him and his father.

And as Odin saw fit to accuse him for his absence to the family, Loki did not hesitate to let the man know what he thought of his parenting skills.

The result was Loki waiting for a bus to Cambridge at ten o' clock at night in a deserted bus terminal.

And despite his mother's continuous pleas he had not returned to West Berkshire for thirteen years.

* * *

He received the invitation to his brother's wedding one evening when he returned to his flat in Covent Garden.

The white envelope almost lost itself between the bills and advertisements. Yet the sight of his brother's name on the crisp white paper causes Loki's hand to stutter and for his eyes to widen.

He had only just recently started talking to his brother and any of their interactions were tentative and hesitant with an underlying tone of resentment. Thirteen years ago, Thor had taken his father's side during the Christmas fallout and the two brothers had not talked to each other until last year when his mother had called Loki and told him sobbingly on the phone that his brother had been reported 'Missing In Action'. And despite the childhood jealousy that Loki still harboured towards Thor, the news his mother had told him caused Loki's heart to stutter and for him to remain catatonic for three consecutive days.

His brother had been rescued and they'd reconciled when Loki had visited him in the Central London hospital.

The invitation was for his brother's wedding and when he saw the name of the bride, Loki's lips twisted into a small smirk.

He wondered how Sif felt about the fact that his brother was marrying this _Jane,_ considering the woman's less than subtle affection for his brother since they had been children.

Again, as with any matter involving his family, it had been at his mother's insistence that he had made his way back to West Yorkshire on a sunny March afternoon. Him and his father had still not reconciled and Loki could not imagine that Odin felt any more inclined than he did to make peace.

His suspicions were more than confirmed when he received a short handshake from his father and a curt greeting before the man turned away from him and went to talk to some distant cousin of theirs.

And despite the self-deprication he felt at that, Loki could not ignore the pang he felt in his chest at his father's coldness.

Yet he steeled himself because he was loathe to let anyone see that Odin's behaviour towards him had hurt the invulnerable Loki. He didn't want to appear weak infront of all these people who didn't like him or actively loathed him.

So he put on an indifferent expression. He supposed that the ceremony was _quaint._ Thor and his bride seemed like a perfect couple. He looked like the perfect bridegroom in his dark tuxedo and with his handsome looks while his bride was beautiful and appropriately emotive. The decoration was tasteful and the food served during reception delicious and Loki knew that it had been his mother who had organised the wedding party.

Loki had been truly surprised when his mother had directed him to the central table where Thor and his bride were sat with their family and closest friend. It threw him off for a short second, long enough for Sif to give him a dark and hateful smirk before resuming with her barely concealed scowl at watching the man she loved marrying someone else. For the entire dinner, Loki did not look up from his plate.

He had hoped to be sitting at a table in the far back. He had never expected that his brother would have him sat at his table. It had been twelve years after all.

He rose during Sif's speech where she congratulated the happy couple and Loki openly shook his head at what a poor liar Sif was.

He exited the tent that his father had ordered to be built up in their large estate and he'd distanced himself from the merry company.

And then he was standing, with his tie loosened and a cigarette resting at the right corner of his lips, looking out at the dark, black water of the lake at their estate. The crisp night air of early spring wafted past him.

And then suddenly someone was standing beside him and Loki only looked minimally to his side to see who the intruder was.

To be painfully honest, he'd almost forgotten that he had a sister.

Their ages had been to far apart and she'd only been four years old when he had left after his and Odin's falling out and not returned to West Berkshire until that day. Whenever his mother had told him something about her, he'd only been half-listening.

His sister had positively slipped his mind for the last thirteen years.

And now she was standing beside him.

She had none of the fair and tanned looks that his brother had inherited from his father but he could see definite traces of Frigga in her. Such as her light-golden auburn hair. Or the softness around her rosy lips.

He was the only one of the children who bore no resemblance to either his father or his mother.

And with a dull pang in his chest, he wondered at how much Freya had grown up. And he wondered how he had been able to even recognize his sister.

"So, the wayward son returns," he heard a soft voice remark teasingly. She wasn't looking at him. Her hazel eyes were trained on the inky-black starry horizon and her arms were crossed over his chest so that the pastel-pink cloth of her cress bunched up at her chest-region. Unwittingly, his eyes flickered towards the strip of exposed skin there.

He didn't answer anything and threw the used cigarette to the ground before stomping it out with the tip of his Italian leather shoes.

His silence didn't deter her and she continued: "Mother and Thor were so happy when you RSVP'd. I think..." He interrupted her then, his voice sharp and cutting and spat indiffirently: "I don't really give a fuck what you think."

Without looking at her, he could see that her head had snapped towards him and startled hazel eyes were trained on him.

He saw her, even without looking.

And then he turned on his heel and slowly trudged back to the party area from where one of the newest chart hits was being played.

He'd expected her to remain there looking after him in shock. Even to return to the tent slightly teary-eyed and to remain at the side of their mother for the rest of the evening.

Yet what she truly did was... unexpected.

She stormed after him and then she proceeded to poke his chest- the top of her head came to a stop several inches beneath his shoulders- and she spat at him: "Well I'll tell you anyways. Father hasn't the greatest parenting skills, at least not when it doesn't concern Thor. I've come to terms with that fact and I'm about half your age. It's time you did as well, you've hurt mother for long enough now."

And then she left him standing there. And it was him looking after her in shock.

Later, her flashing hazel eyes would come to his mind as he masturbated and the sight of her pursed lips and pale skin caused him to climax so hard he almost bit off his tongue.

He visited his family more after that.

His father seemed indifferent.

His brother always greeted him with a fraternal pat on his back.

His mother hugged him enthusiastically.

And over her shoulder, he would see his sister's harsh expression thaw.

He told himself that he didn't visit because of her.

He'd always had a propensity to lies.

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 _ **AN- Please favourite, follow and review**_


	2. Chapter 2

_"and the earth withers the moon crumbles one by one stars flutter into dust"- As Is The Sea Marvelous, E.E. Cummings_

* * *

"The flat is lovely, my son," his mother smiles at him warmly as he pours her tea in one of his monochrome mugs. It is Saturday and his mother called him quite unexpectedly this morning, announcing that she had bussiness in London and asking him if she could pass by his flat for late afternoon tea after he was done with work. He had known this morning that today would have been an exhausting day at the office as the due date for the publication of a two-thousand copy edition of a novel was the day after tomorrow. But he was unable to reject his mother's visit.

He pours some of the Jasmine tea he bought during his last trip to China in April into his black, ceramic mug and then he sits down in front of his mother and she proceeds to talk at him about something or another which she finds important.

Despite the fact that Loki can be quite charming when he wanted- _needed-_ to be, he cannot tolerate innane conversation. He has never harboured any interest in small talk and only forced himself to engage in it during his company functions when it was absolutely necessary to further his career.

Now however he indulges his mother by half-listening as she tells him about the new rose-garden she is planning to plant in the eastern front of their estate next spring and ocassionally nods his head in something akin to acknowledgement and encouragement to his mother. He has always been very patient and indulgent towards Frigga. In his memories of growing up, she remains as the only entity that ever cared or paid any mind to him. And for that little show of affection that she had bestowed he was infinitely grateful. Which is exactly why he allows her to waffle on and on about the benefits of red roses versus white roses, instead of snapping at her and telling her to leave his flat as he would have done with anyone else. He indulges Frigga despite the fact that he has had a stressful day at work and just wants to lie down in his bed.

"... and Freya has just received her acceptance letter from LSE," Frigga continues while putting down the porcelain cup after taking a dainty sip of her tea. His face snaps up at the sound of her name.

His heart quickens in his chest.

His eyes narrow, like a hawk that has just spied his prey.

"I believe Odin is very happy that at least one of his children has chosen to read business and economy. You know how it was always his dream that the company remain a family venture," Frigga chuckles. Loki nods his head slowly, almost gravely and after drinking the scalding hot liquid he states as indifferently as possible: "He must be very proud of her." Frigga smiles at him brightly confirming that they are.

"But it's so much that we have to do. I know Freya hasn't left the front of her desktop searching for an accomodation," his mother states worriedly. He cocks his right brow imperceptibly. He can hear out the subtext in Frigga's statement. Like there is something she wants to tell him: A silent plea. But Loki can't identify it. He only knows that Frigga isn't just commenting this offhandedly.

His suspicions are confirmed when he states: "Well she better solve this sooner than later. Accomodations in London are expensive and hard to come by" and Frigga's beautiful face falls.

He will only realize what it was that Frigga wanted to ask him three days later. He agreed to spend the weekend at his parent's house. It was a busy week for him and just yesterday they had completed the publication of the newest novel which would appear in _Barnes &Noble _on Monday for sale. His mother had invited him to spend Saturday and Sunday in his childhood home in West Berkshire as both Thor and his wife would be travelling down from Manchester to spend the weekend. Usually, Loki would be very hesitant to spend his weekend with his _family,_ rather prefering to remain in the privacy of his flat with a good book and a glass of red Bordeaux.

But he is completely worn-out from this week and he finds himself not that opposed to the idea of remaining two days in his parent's estate and the thought of her rosy lips twisting into a smile is all he needs to get into his car on Saturday morning and drive one and a half hours west to Berkshire.

He is walking into the kitchen when he hears his brother's hushed voice: "Mom, did you ask Loki already?" Before his mother can answer, he walks into the kitchen with his usual carefree, elegant stride and heading straight towards the sink he asks: "Ask me what?" He can see the carefulness on his mother's expression, but Thor has always been more impetuous than any of them and so in his booming voice he asks: "If Freya can stay in your flat while she studies at LSE."

He catches himself quickly enough but perhaps if he had been another, the glass he fills with water would have fallen from his grip and shattered on the marble floor.

If he was another he wouldn't burn with desire for his little sister.

He is Loki, however and so he only cocks his head minutely in answer and taking a sip from his glass, he drawls: "So?"

Thor continues undeterred making the case for his youngest sister: "Yes, accomodation in London is so expensive and bad in most cases and you have a big flat that is very close to her university. It only makes sense that you allow her to live there."

Now he realizes what his mother had wanted from him when she had told him about Freya's difficulty in finding a place to stay in London. And he realises that he simultaneously dreads and longs to hear those words.

Thor is still going on. Making the case for their little sister. Loki wonders if his brother would be so vehement if he knew that Loki dreamt every night of making their sister scream beneath him.

He looks up when he hears the subject in question's voice: "I have already found some oncampus accomodation, Thor. There is no need to bother Loki about it." She has her arms crossed out over her chest defensively. Almost as if she has guessed his depraved thoughts and wishes to shield herself from them.

She has her blue eyes trained on him and Loki meets her eyes head-on. He wonders who will look away first. He is determined and eventually she looks down before turning on her heels and walking away. He looks after her until long after she has disappeared from sight. He pays no mind to Thor's condemning glare.

* * *

He left the kitchen followed by Thor's stream of resentful accusations a few seconds after her worldless exit in the same manner as her.

And it has been two hours since he had looked at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom, lying on his back, wordlessly.

Despite his... _emotions..._ towards Freya he has never believed that he would act upon his dark and animalistic urges. He has always believed that his want would be confined to his dreams and would never see the light of day, eventually to die with him. Regardless that every passing second in her company made his want for her increase exponentially.

Her living with him on a day to day basis would be torture.

The _sweetest, most delicious_ torture he could imagine.

A soft knock sounds at the door and Loki mutters a loud-enough 'Enter'.

The door opens to his mother and Loki looks back towards his ceiling. The bed dips as his mother sits down beside him at its edge. Until now the room had been silent and loaded with his thoughts and the temptation he feels and with his reluctance to give in. By no stretch of the imagination could he be called a good man. Yet he still possesses enough decency to not want to expose his innocent sister to his dark desire.

His mother breaks the heavy atmosphere with her words: "You know how impulsive and protective of Freya Thor has always been." His mother is apologizing to him on behalf of his son. Loki quells the urge to smirk darkly. Thor thinks him a condescending bastard, he would never apologize to him. And Loki believes him to be a brainless buffoon. Not even to his mother's benefit will he accept the apology.

Frigga sighs at her son's reticent unresponsiveness and continues: "I did not want to spring this on you on Wednesday. But Thor does have a point, Loki. It's been very difficult for Freya to find a place to stay in London. Everything is either full or falling to pieces and it all is expensive."

He sits up and scoots back so that his back is resting on the headrest and then drawls: "Yes, well she claims she has found something mother." In response, the woman shakes her head sadly and explains: "I think she said that because she doesn't want to impose on you." And he is close. So close to just sending all his morals to hell.

He is absolutely done for when his mother states: "Despite being the best option, you two would have a chance to become closer."

* * *

She moves in a month later.

He makes sure that while she is moving her possession into the guest room which she will occupy from now on, he is busy at work. And he also makes sure that she knows it.

She arrived in the morning as he was having breakfast in a light summerdress that he had wanted to rip off with his teeth. He let her in but didn't stay long enough to greet her properly. He had unlocked the door to her there and then turned on his heel, cutting off her: "Good morning" and he returned to the kitchen. He just finished breakfast before her arrival so that he'd been able to put his dishes into the sink and with a cool voice informed her that he was working and would only return later than night.

He doesn't care that she feels unwelcome. To be honest it's what he is striving after.

For a month he has been regretting his agreement to Frigga and Thor's request. But he had allowed her to come. And he knows that Thor and his mother would have never allowed him to go back on his promise. However this means in no way that he can't scare her off. Loki believes his sister to be a sensitive young girl who has been protected and coddled her entire life by Frigga, Thor and Odin. She will be utterly unprepared for his disdain and maltreatment. And she won't know how to deal with it. And she will leave, perhaps even in tears. He will never hear from her again.

After weighing things up, Loki decides that it's a small price to pay for saving her. And saving his soul.

He arrives in his flat at about seven o'clock that evening and finds her in the kitchen. He is about to forego a polite greeting in favour of gruffly snapping at her for whatever reason. But she interrupts him by announcing: "I have made dinner."

He closes his mouth again. He is surprised by that. He hadn't expected it. Surely she is tired after unpacking her things and settling into the flat.

She turns around to him and gives him a small, tentative smile.

He is about able to stutter- _how Thor's friends would laugh at the state Silver-Tongue had been reduced to:_ "I've already eaten" and without waiting for her answer, he goes to his room.

He flees as if the devil incarnate is after him.

And he feels that he is in more trouble than he thought.

* * *

 **AN- Second chapter: Please tell me what you thought. Thanks for those who followed :D. This will all be written from Loki's perspective and I'm wondering if you think that the characterisation up to now is accurate.**


	3. Chapter 3

_"rarely-beloved a single star is uttered,and i think of you"- In the Rain, E.E. Cummings_

* * *

Throughout his whole life, Loki has done his namesake justice. For as long as he can remember,Loki has been blessed with a sharp wit and a quick mind that always has him a step ahead of everybody. As a result, there is very little anyone can do to suprise him or to trick him. It's always him doing the tricking and the mischief; a silent and unconscious tribute to the Norse Trickster God he has been named after.

Yet now he finds himself baffled.

She is acting so fucking domestic.

And he doesn't know why his surprise is so great at that. It makes him realise that he knows next to nothing about his younger sister. It isn't as if he believed that she was a spoiled brat. No... Whenever Frigga or Thor talked about her they exuded pride and admiration for the young girl. Loki supposes that she has to be sweet and innocent and virtuous and everything that he is not.

He expects that after a week of him dodging her attempts at cooking dinner for him and not commenting on the cleanliness and organisation of his flat she would have enough of his lack of gratitude and recognition and she would cease her homemaking. But it isn't as Loki predicted. And she goes on to ceaselessly wait for him in the evenings with a dinner cooked and the house clean and impecable. And Loki continues to ignore her efforts.

If he is being quite honest, he doesn't dare talking to her. He is scared of what will happen if he does. His nightly visions of her have become more intense with her increased proximity and he wonders if she hears him feverishly moaning her name in the dusk.

He supposes not: For all her sweetness, he does not believe she would still be smiling brightly at him when he arrives home from work were she to know that he dreams of fucking her so hard she couldn't walk and act fucking domestic the next day.

He thinks that he is more determined than her: he believes that he will remain brusque and unkind and mean to her long enough so she will tire of the bad treatment and retreat from his home. Yet she shows no signs of weakening. And Loki wonders for how much longer he can resist the temptation of her blushing cheeks and her rosy lips that are now omnipresent in his life.

Not even when she starts university about two weeks after she moved in, does she cease to cook him a dinner that will remain uneaten and greet him with a clean house. And Loki has to resist the urge to strangle the girl.

He has always had a quick mind. But even someone as dim-witted as Thor can tell that this arrangement between them will not end well.

He meets Sygin at work. She is the proverbial, fit new office secretary and she has been giving Loki the eye since she started working at the company.

She is one of those sexy blond bombeshells with shiny, wavy hair and long legs and Loki sees all his male officeworkers looking after her with unconcealed desire each time she passes by them. The fact that she, so desired by many, seems to want him should be definitely be an ego-boost; not that Loki ever had any trouble with women. Perhaps when he was younger, but now his dark looks and his mysterious charm definitely make him an object of attraction for many women.

It's her who takes the initiative and asks him if he wants to go to dinner. It's the jealous look in his coworker's eyes that make him say yes.

They go for dinner and she is so fucking appropriate for him that he finds himself utterly bored: she is his age and well-read and she studied at a proper university and she is beautiful and would be the perfect girlfriend to show off.

He drives them back to his flat and his lips don't leave hers in a steamy embrace since the elevator drives them up to his floor. It's late and he has drunk too much wine and he hopes that she will walk out of the room at the sound of them arriving and that he will prove a point. But they enter his flat and he shoves Sygin against the wall of the entrance hall and she moans loudly and she doesn't walk out of her room. Not giving up, Loki steers them, still kissing Sygin but now with his eyes open to catch a sight of her, towards her bedroom.

The door is open and the room is empty and Loki wonders where she is. It's Friday night and she is probably at a friend's house or at a party... Or perhaps at a date.

The thought inflames him and driven by his jealous rage, he takes Sygin in her bed.

Roughly, messily.

He comes with his eyes closed and his nose buried into the pillow which smells like strawberries and lillies and just her.

Despite the rough treatment on their first date, Sygin still finds herself keen on him. And Loki takes advantage of the blond woman's infatuation with him. He takes her back home, equally as stormy as the time before.

Just as he first thrusts into her, he looks up to find his little sister standing at the hallway looking at the sight before her- her older brother furiously fucking someone on the living room sofa- with wide eyes. He expects her cheeks to start glowing bright-red and for her to run back to her room as if Greek Furies were chasing her. Yet she remains, her cheeks grow red and her hands start to fidget but she doesn't move an inch. And seeing her stoicness inflames him and he lets out a loud and shaky moan and proceeds to thrust once more into Sygin.

He lasts pathetically little, looking at Freya while thrusting into the blonde beneath him. And it's her name on his lips that he holds back from calling as he climaxes.

When he opens his eyes after coming down from his high, he looks back to the hallway.

He finds it bare of her.

* * *

The two-hour ride to West Berkshire is deathly silent. It's not as if they have openly conversed once in the month she has been living with him, despite her attempts to start a conversation and his harsh and dry rebukes.

But there is something different in the silence that envelops them now and if Loki has to guess he would have said that the silence is loaded and tense, judging by her rigid shoulders and her determined look to the front. It's been a week since she caught him and Sygin in the living room. And she hasn't greeted him since that night. He still finds the casseroles with dinner waiting for him but the kitchen is now bare of her expectant form.

And Loki shouldn't wonder at that. She had watched her brother having sex with another woman and climaxing while staring at her so intently that there was no mistaking it. He would have been a deluded fool if he believed that there would be no repercusions to that occurence and that she would go on normally with him after witnessing such a sight. Her pious and decent sensitivities have been injured and she is letting him feel all her discomfort.

They arrive in silence at their parent's estate and are greeted by their parents and brother. While both Thor and Frigga seem delighted in the same extent to see them both, Odin clearly gravitates toward his youngest daughter.

Loki simply watches with a rueful smirk as Odin fawns over the pretty auburn-haired girl while giving a short nod of acknowledgment in his direction as a greeting.

Their relatives naturally ask how they have found living together in the past month and Loki answers non-commitally with a shrug and a nod to signify that it is not unbearable. She is more vocal as she states: "It's been going well." And the words are expressed in such a final manner that not even Odin dared ask for anymore details about their living arrangements.

And despite being in the warm presence of her family and back in her childhood home, Loki observes that her shoulders are still tensed and the skin around her lips is still tight. She still is impossibly tense.

Later it's only Thor, her and him in the kitchen. The two brothers are sharing a pint of lager while she is washing the dishes from tonight's dinner and the three siblings are conversing. He should correct himself: she converses with Thor and he converses with Thor but no conversation flows between the two of them. And perhaps Thor notices this but he is much too absorbed in other matters to talk about it. Or perhaps he is just ignorant to the tension between the two siblings.

Sometime his brother asks him: "Tell me, Loki: Have you finally found a woman to make me an uncle with?" Before he can answer the nosy question, he hears the sound of glass shattering and the two men look simultaneously towards the third individual in the room to see her crouching on the floor and picking up shards of porcelain that had previously been one of Frigga's dinnerplates. And after she disposes of the shards, she leaves the room without directing another word at Thor, who is looking at her with his brow furrowed and confused eyes, and at him who studies each of her moves carefully, and with still half of the night's dishes left undried.

His lips twist at the delicious realisation that his sister is jealous.

It's Sunday morning and Thor and his parents have gone to watch service in Reading.

He fevereshly twisted the entire night after realising that perhaps his sister's behaviour is not only borne from discomfort but that there is also the possibility, which is becoming much more feasible by the minute, that she is jealous of him.

When his mother comes into his room to inform him that her, Odin and Thor are leaving for service, he finds himself unable to resist knocking on her door in the now empty, save for them, house. There is a moment of hesitation, Frigga has also surely informed her that they all would be leaving the house save for Loki, before he hears an almost reluctant 'Enter'.

Whereas in his previous visits, the shelves in her childhood room had been overflowingly filled with books and tiny knick-knacks that were her possessions, he now finds the wooden shelves bare save for a few, non-descript items lining the shelves. The walls of her room are skyblue and Loki can't help but to remark that they match the eyes that are now carefully watching him as he steps into her room.

He had entered her room once before. It had been at Frigga's request because she was calling everyone down to dinner and Freya had had her music so loud that she couldn't hear her mother's call.

He had lost count of the times, he had dreamt of entering her room in the dark of the night and taking her with Odin sleeping only a few metres away.

She draws him from his thoughts by cocking her brow and asking him a drawn-out 'yes' to encourage him to reveal the reason for his visit. At that, he strides towards her bed where she is sitting on with a heavy book- probably from her studies- in her lap. Without waiting for an invitation, he sits down and feigning concern and ignorance he starts: "You have been very tense lately, Freya. Has everything been alright with your studies?"

Blue eyes flash at him with indignant disbelief. Both of them know that he is feigning and that his question seems almost mocking considering everything that has happened.

Her lips twists as she thinks him mocking her with his concern that stands in stark contrast with his cold behaviour towards her in the last month. But she still answers: "No, my studies are well, brother." He feigns relief, determined to continue with his act despite her dark look at him silently demanding that he stop this. He suddenly realises her state of dress. She has surely drapped the bathing robe around her when he knocked on the door. But it still reveales- and as a result makes her much more tantalising- the bare skin of her thigh. He tries to mask his heavy breathing but, near hypnotised by her ivory flesh, he moves closer and whispers: "I'm glad. It is so important for you to be focused on your studies and going well and ensuring that you are not... distracted by anything else." During his speech, his fingers had inched closer and closer to the exposed skin. His eyes were so focused on her skin and had he looked up he would have seen that her eyes were nearly as fixed on his approaching hand as his were on her. And that she tilted her head back when he finally came in contact with her thigh.

His fingers sprawl the exposed skin and it is as soft as he imagined it to be. And just as he tightens his searching fingers in a possessive grip, she knocks his hand away and jumps up.

The door bangs shut.

* * *

AN- I'm very thankful for every feedback I get. You know the drill. Review and stuff. Please tell me if you think the story is moving too fast.


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